The Dawning of the Truth
by TigerLily888
Summary: Hotch and Emily become stranded in the woods. Will their forced proximity make them realise what their true feelings are? Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**This is for hotchityhotchhotch as a small thanks for all the hours of reading pleasure you've given me. Happy Birthday! **And congratulations on all your nominations :)** **Your writing is truly amazing.****

**This is an homage, so to speak to your 'Stranded' series. I have been wanting to do a 'stranded' fic for like forever. It was originally going to be a smutty, lighthearted oneshot, but surprise, surprise (not) my muse had other ideas. So here's the first rather serious chapter. It's probably going to contain a few chapters at this stage. I'm not sure yet.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no infringement is intended.**

Emily looked out of her side window and squinted at the passing landscape. She could have sworn that they had passed that same tree over an hour ago. She clearly remembered thinking to herself at the time how much it reminded her of the whomping willow in the Harry Potter movie she had found herself watching one late night. It had turned out to be better than she expected. Much better in any case than the European movies that seemed to always be on when she was eating her dinner at 10 pm. Or maybe she was just experiencing sour grapes due to the fact that the characters in the movies were always jumping into the sack. Apparently all European films nowadays had to have the obligatory sex scene.

She tried to think back to the last time she had experienced physical intimacy. Her mind drew a blank. It had been some months before the whole Doyle thing had happened. After that she had been injured, then in exile. That was what she had labelled that period of time when she had felt like she was living in limbo. She was Emily, and yet she wasn't. How could she be, when she was so far away from everything that defined who she was. Her job, her friends, her home. She had been tempted, so many times, to pick up some random guy at a bar and have mindless sex. She had certainly had her share of propositions. Maybe it would have made her forget for a while where she was and what she was doing there. She had often wondered if having a warm body next to hers would somehow ease the loneliness that was slowly and surely eroding her soul.

But she never gave in. Something in her seemed to always hold her back. She didn't know what it was. Perhaps it was the knowledge that if she did give in to temptation, she would lose some part of herself, who she really was. All for the sake of a brief release with an anonymous stranger. She had more respect for herself than that. Except the problem was that it had now been so long since her last sexual encounter, the thought of that good night kiss at her door at the end of a date filled her with dread.

She wondered with amusement if she even remembered all the moves. A wry smile curved her lips at the thought.

"What are you thinking about?" The mellow timbre of her companion's baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.

Emily hesitated. Her first inclination was to say nothing. But maybe she could voice her thoughts. Since her return four months ago, her relationship with Hotch had changed. She liked to think that they had gotten closer. Become better friends. She stole a sideways glance at his profile. He was focussed intently on the dirt road before him, face serious with concentration. Despite the approaching dusk and the sharp curvature of the road, he drove with no hesitation, his hands guiding the steering wheel confidently. It was always a pleasure observing him driving. She blinked, wondering where that stray thought had come from.

"I was just thinking how long it's been since I've been on a date," she admitted. She could sense him looking at her.

"Is this something that's been on your mind?" He tapped on the brake, slowing down the SUV to take the next turn.

"Not really. Well, maybe a little." She ventured a look at him. "I know, it's kind of silly."

"Oh, I don't know. I was incredibly nervous before I went out on my first date with Beth." He shot her a rueful look. "You may not have had a date in over a year. I, on the other hand, haven't been on a date since high school. Imagine trying to prepare yourself for your first adult outing at the age of 43."

She laughed softly. "Okay, you win. But it went well, didn't it?" Emily knew he had seen Beth a handful of times since that first date two months ago, but she never pried. Despite their friendship, Hotch was still an intensely private person. As was she. If there was something he wanted to share with her, he would. She thought that it was likely also due to the fact that his relationship with Beth was still so new. _He_ probably didn't even know himself where it was heading. The hours they worked and the commitment they had to their jobs were not conducive to building or even maintaining relationships. And Hotch would be more aware of that than everyone in the team except perhaps for the exception of Dave.

"Reasonably well. I wasn't quite prepared for her insisting to pay, though."

Emily smiled. She could well imagine the startled look he would have immediately concealed. Hotch had been raised a Southern gentleman. The thought of a woman paying for her share of dinner would have been unacceptable. Emily doubted she would have offered to pay if he had been her date. Beth sounded like a very independent woman. Good for her. "So what did you do?"

"We compromised. I paid for dinner that time and she paid for the next."

"Well, three cheers for equality."

Hotch chuckled. "Is it the conversation you're dreading?"

"No. I'm never worried about not being able to carry on a conversation. I have my mother to thank for that." She paused. Was this something she really wanted to discuss with her supervisor? Even if she considered him a friend, there were just some things one shouldn't discuss with one's boss. "It's nothing, really."

He gave her a shrewd look. "Then your concern must be more to do with what happens after the date."

She shook her head, chagrined. "This is what happens when you have a conversation with a friend who's a profiler. I obviously need to work on masking my thoughts."

"You masked your thoughts very well. I just happen to have the same fears you do now."

There was silence in the SUV while Emily mulled over Hotch's statement. "So you and Beth haven't ..." Her voice trailed off. This was getting into very personal territory. If it had been her love life they were discussing – okay, so they were doing that to a certain extent – she would never have told Hotch whether she was, or was not, sleeping with the man she was currently dating. She would have bet a lot of money that Hotch felt the same.

So she was surprised at his answer. "We're taking things slow. I want to be sure it felt right before we went any further."

Emily nodded slowly. She wouldn't have expected anything else of him. She had been really pleased when she found out that Hotch had finally started dating. He deserved to have someone in his life besides Jack. As a result she was now completely taken aback by the rush of relief that had flooded her when he told her that he hadn't yet slept with Beth. She tried to push that feeling away, telling herself that it was only because she was concerned that he would end up getting hurt pursuing that relationship. "That sounds like rational plan."

"Yes, it's too bad emotions aren't rational."

"Hmm?" She wondered where he was going with that statement.

"I'm more than certain that you have nothing to be concerned about when you do go out on your date, Emily. You can achieve anything you want when you put your mind to it."

She bit her lip, wondering whether she should laugh or cry. Hotch was actually trying to make her feel better about getting back on the horse, so to speak. "Thanks Hotch. That was … truly inspirational."

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head at himself. "It wasn't my intention to spout out a Hallmark line. You know what I'm trying to say. One of the things we have in common is that we don't let fears stand in the way of what we want. When you find the right person, the physical part of the relationship will work itself out."

He was right, as always. She always had confidence in her abilities, although she had to admit she did have more faith in her professional skills. Her ability to form a personal relationship was sadly lacking. "Thanks for your vote of confidence, Hotch." He was sweet. Beth was a lucky woman.

"You're welcome. Besides," he turned and flashed a grin at her, making her blink with surprise at how the smile transformed his face. "Dave tells me that it's like riding a bike. You never forget."

Emily burst out in laughter, Hotch joining in a second later. They were still laughing when Emily saw something flash across the road before them.

"_Hotch!_" she screamed.

Hotch hit the brake hard, jerking the steering wheel to the left to avoid the animal in their path. The SUV swerved, juddering hard as it ploughed through a few hundred yards of low-lying brush before finally crashing into huge wooden fence post.

Blinding pain exploded inside Emily's head and the last thing she saw before she faded into unconsciousness was the crumpled hood of their SUV.

**Hi everyone, I hope you liked the start to this fic. My current state of prolific writing is surprising even myself! As always, send me a review if you can. I'll update my other fics as soon as I am able.  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay in posting, I have been been trying to finish up a couple of twoshots and my email fic. They're done, so onwards, dear readers.**

**Just a note to let you know that this fic has turned into something that I so completely did not expect (naughty muse) that I'm still trying to figure out what happens next, so bear with me! Thanks, saturdayslump for betaing, you're the best.  
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><p>His heartbeat pounding violently in his ears, Hotch was motionless for a few seconds after the impact as his brain attempted to comprehend what had just happened. Awareness dawned.<p>

_Oh God._

_Emily. _

His head whipped to right and pain radiated within him. But he barely even noticed. Because there she was, slumped against the side airbag, lying completely still. The only movement in the SUV was the bright red trail of blood as it slowly meandered down the white polyester fabric. He stared at her for a long moment before coming abruptly to his senses and then scrambled desperately to undo his seatbelt. It took him three attempts before he managed to free himself. He pulled at the door handle, pushing hard against it with his shoulder at the same time.

With a metallic screech of protest, the door suddenly gave way and he fell out of the SUV, landing on the hard packed dirt outside. This time he could no longer ignore the pain as it exploded in his chest, making him automatically curl inwards in a protective gesture. Hotch gasped shallowly for air, each breath causing a wave of pain to sweep through his ribcage. The pain was severe, but it wasn't excruciating, making him think that his ribs were bruised, rather than broken. But he couldn't think about that now. He had to get to Emily. She was hurt.

He pushed himself up to his feet, stumbling over to the passenger side. Taking a breath, he gritted his teeth and wrenched the door open, mentally shutting away the pain that resulted. Emily's head lolled towards him, her body held in place by her seatbelt. He gently took hold of her head and laid it back on the headrest. Hotch dug his hand into his pants and found the handkerchief that he always carried around and quickly pressed it to her head wound, where blood was still seeping out. The cut itself didn't look particularly deep or serious. The concern was what the effect of the impact was on her brain. Hotch found himself praying that she had not suffered a severe brain injury. If she had, there was no hope of getting medical attention in time.

"Emily? Emily, can you hear me?"

There was no response, not even a flicker of an eyelash.

"Emily, it's Hotch, come on, wake up now." He gently patted her cheek with his free hand but she remained unmoving. The last time he had seen her lying so white and deathly still had been at the hospital after the medical staff had worked on her for hours to repair the damage that Doyle had caused. Pushing away that memory and the surge of fear that had surfaced with it, he pulled out his cell from his jacket. It only took a quick glance to confirm his fears. They were out of range. He looked around, forcing himself to think as rationally as the shock and adrenaline running through his body would allow. The sun had set and dusk was gathering. If there was no other shelter around, they would have to stay in the SUV. At least that provided some protection from the outside elements.

Hotch looked down at Emily's pale face. He needed to get help. The problem was the nearest town was at least 30 miles away. Wait. He looked up. The SUV was jammed up against a wooden fence post. Which meant that the property belonged to someone. There could be a house around somewhere. And a house meant people. People who could help. He narrowed his eyes in the failing light. Was there some sort of structure in the distance?

Praying that his eyes hadn't conjured up the image, he unfastened Emily's seatbelt and picked her up in his arms. He had to stand still for a few seconds as fresh pain blossomed in his chest, assisted by the pressure of her body on his ribs. He took a few breaths and then started walking along the fence line. Thankfully, it only took him about 15 minutes before he came to a low lying gate. The gate was closed, but was not locked. He managed to open it without needing to put Emily down.

The property was large and it took almost 40 minutes for Hotch to walk the length of the driveway. He had to put Emily down a few times to recover his breath. Even so, by the time he stumbled up the steps of the cabin, he was lightheaded and nauseous with pain and exhaustion. _God, please let there be someone here. Please._

After laying Emily down on the floor of the outside deck, he knocked on the solid oak door. Once, twice, three times. No answer. Hotch cursed viciously. He walked to the window adjoining the door and tried to look inside. By now it was almost totally dark and he could see nothing. Coming to a decision, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his arm before smashing through the glass in the window. He reached in and undid the latch, pulling open the window. He climbed in and unlocked the front door.

Five minutes later, Emily was lying on a couch, while Hotch rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, searching for some matches or a lighter by the pencil thin beam of light from his key ring. He finally found some matches in the bottom drawer and lit the three oil lamps on the dining table. The light revealed the interior of the cabin to be unexpectedly habitable. The furniture was old, but well cared for, and only a light layer of dust appeared to cover the horizontal surfaces. It seemed to be a holiday home of sorts.

He only spared the time for a cursory look around the cabin before walking back to Emily and kneeling down next to her. "Emily, wake up. It's Hotch. Emily." He glanced at his watch. She had been unconscious now for almost two hours. He knew from his first-aid course that unconsciousness after a sustaining head injury was not a good sign. He moistened his lips, eyes locked on dark haired woman before him. For the first time since the accident, he admitted to himself that it wasn't just adrenaline that was making his heart beat fast. It was fear.

It was the same suffocating fear that he had experienced in that waiting room with the rest of the team while she was being operated upon. But this was worse. Although her injuries had been life threatening, he had been comforted to some degree by the fact that she was being treated in the world class hospital. In contrast, here she was, possibly experiencing a moderately severe head injury, miles from nowhere and stuck with someone whose medical skills were rudimentary at best.

He tried calling her again, taking her hand and holding it in both of his. "Emily, please, wake up. Please, Emily." With every beat of his heart, a fresh surge of fear swept through him until he could barely breathe. He couldn't lose her. Not like this. At any other time, he would have taken a mental step back and coolly and rationally analysed the reason why he was experiencing such mind-numbing terror at the thought of losing her.

But not right now. All he could think about was the fact that she might die before his very eyes while he stood by, completely helpless. The thought was beyond horrifying. "Emily, wake up. I'm begging you," His voice broke. "Please, please wake up." Unbidden, tears filled his eyes, and he hung his head, feeling the warm liquid drip onto the back of the hand which held hers in a deathly tight grip.

"H..Hotch?"

He froze, wondering for a moment if he had imagined the sound. It wasn't even a sound, more like a mere wisp of one. A breath. Barely daring to hope, he slowly lifted his eyes. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

Emily's eyes were open. She looked at him, a small frown on her brow. "What ... what happened?" she whispered.

Hotch swiped away his tears with the back of his hand. The deluge of relief that swept over him was overwhelming. He paused, tamping down his emotions, trying to sound normal. "We were in an accident, remember?"

She was quiet for a moment, then slowly nodded. Her eyes widened and she stared at him. "Wait, are … are you okay?"

His heart clenched. Even in her injured state she was still concerned for him. "I'm fine." Her question unsurprisingly triggered the pain that he had previously pushed aside. His chest throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat. "Let me get you some water." He stood up and taking one of the oil lamps, went into the kitchen. To his relief, there was a large crate of bottled water in the corner of the kitchen and he took a bottle.

Hotch slipped his arm around Emily and helped her to sit up, watching her closely as she did so. She winced, but otherwise appeared reasonably alert and took a few sips of water from the bottle.

She leaned back gingerly against the back of the couch and Hotch sat down next to her. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure, but we were lucky to find this place. The SUV's a write-off, and there's no cell reception." He knew that he looked grim. But he was worried.

"What's the matter?" Emily gave him a searching look.

"Nobody knows where we are. The last time I spoke to Garcia was when we were in Seven Lakes, and that was over six hours ago. It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken that detour onto this back road."

"Hotch, you didn't have any choice, the road we were on was being repaired. It would have taken us three times longer to get back to Greensboro. It's not your fault."

"Let's just hope the LoJack wasn't destroyed in the accident and Garcia can track the SUV." He kicked himself mentally. Why the hell was he talking about their situation? Emily was injured, for God's sake. Worrying her was not only unnessary, it was something he should have avoided. "Are you hungry? I think I saw some canned food in the pantry."

She shook her head, wincing at the movement. "No, but I do need to go to the bathroom."

"I'm going to carry you. Are you able to hold the oil lamp?"

"Oh no, I can walk, really," she protested. He ignored her, handing her the oil lamp before standing up. He bent down and sliding his arms under her, picked her up, gritting his teeth as pain tore through his chest.

Emily noticed immediately. "Hotch! What's wrong?"

He forced a smile, knowing that it probably looked more like a grimace. "Just some bruised ribs. I'm fine."

"Put me down, Hotch, let me see. They could be broken."

He shook his head, walking towards the direction of the bathroom. "They're not broken, I've had broken ribs before. I know what they feel like."

He set her down on her feet in the bathroom, holding her until he was sure she could support herself. "I'll be right outside the door. Don't lock it."

A few minutes later he heard the toilet flush and then she called out for him. He pushed open the door, eyes narrowing on her pale face and he quickly put his arm around her waist, bracing her while she washed her hands and dried them. She made a face when she saw herself in the mirror.

"Wow, that's a good looking head wound."

"It's pretty spectacular," he agreed. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. "It was bleeding pretty badly at first. I was …" His voice trailed off and Emily turned to face him. His arm was still around her and as a result her body rested lightly against his. Their gazes locked.

"You were what?" Her voice was hushed.

Never in his life had he been more aware of a woman. He shouldn't say what he was thinking. He knew he shouldn't. Yet in the next moment the words came spilling out of his mouth. "I was afraid that I was going to lose you. Again. And I don't know what I would have done if I did." He hadn't meant to say that last sentence either.

Emily's face softened. She lifted a hand and pressed it to his cheek. "_Hotch._" Her voice was choked with emotion. Even in the dim flickering light he could see the sheen of tears in her eyes. "You're not going to lose me again. I promise."

He knew as well as she did that it was a promise she couldn't keep. But he chose not to disagree.

"I'm sorry I put you through that, through everything that's happened." She was referring to the fact that he had to hide the truth from the team. She lowered her hand, resting it on his chest. He wondered vaguely if she could feel the fierce pounding of his heart.

"That was nothing, Emily. I would have done anything to keep you safe. Anything." For once, he didn't hide his emotions on his usual mask of stoicism. He wanted her to know that he meant every word. That he was telling her the truth.

She stared at him, then nodded. "I know." Her eyes never wavered from his as she slid her hands up to his shoulders. "Thank you for keeping me safe," she whispered.

Later on he would think back and wonder why the alarms which normally would have sounded in his mind never switched on. At that moment though, he could only look mutely at her as she drew closer to him, her breath soft upon his face.

And then her lips touched his and he was lost.

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><p><strong>Reviews, pretty please? Thanks for reading. <strong>

**And please, do go to the CM Forum Chit Chat on Author's Corner to vote for your favourite fics and authors. Voting closes on November 30th, so there's not much time left. Thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3 guys. Thanks hotchityhotchhotch and saturdayslump for helping me find my way. I'm still unsure exactly what each chapter will contain, but for now I'm enjoying being surprised by where my muse is leading me. I hope you like this chapter.**

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><p><em>Oh.<em>

A feeling of sheer wonder flitted through her at that moment when her lips first came into contact with his. His lips, so often set in a grim, straight line, were surprisingly soft and supple against hers. Hotch was motionless for the barest second, and then he was kissing her back. And oh, what a kiss it was. He kissed the way she would have expected him to; carefully, thoroughly, completely confident in his abilities. And yet there was such an inherent tenderness in his touch that she felt her heart ache.

Her lips parted under his, allowing his tongue entry to explore the soft, velvety depths of her mouth. She shyly touched her tongue to his, feeling a wave of warmth sweep through her as their tongues danced together in a prelude to what was now still unknown. Hotch made a sound deep in his throat, tightening his arm around her waist and drawing her closer to him. His left hand came up and cupped the back of her head and his tilted his head slightly to enable their mouths to fit even more intimately together.

Emily's entire consciousness had narrowed into this kiss; the firm pressure of his lips moulding to hers, the sensual slide of his tongue over hers, the heat of his hand burning through her shirt on her back, the lemony scent of his cologne mingled with masculine exertion. The assault on her senses was almost overwhelming, but over it all, was the faint and yet insistent thought. This was Hotch. What was she doing?

Even so, she was stunned when Hotch suddenly wrenched his mouth away from hers, dropping the hand from her head and pulling back slightly. Breathing hard, he stared at her with turmoil filled eyes. "Emily. I'm so sorry. You're injured and here I am, practically ready to ..." he stopped abruptly, eyes darkening.

She rushed to reassure him. "Hotch, I'm the one to blame. I kissed you first." And for the life of her, she didn't know why she had done that. Had it been the proximity, the warmth of his body pressed against her side, his words? All she knew was that the pain and fear that had been reflected in his eyes when he had told her that he didn't know what he would have done if he had lost her again, had touched something deep within her that she hadn't even dared to acknowledge existed. The part of her that harbored such intense feelings for him that when they had first surfaced when she had seen him injured at the hospital after Foyet, all she was able to do was try to shut them away. Compartmentalize, like she always had. After a while, admittedly a long while, she was able to pretend that they didn't exist. That she had no deeper feelings for him than what a friend felt for another friend. And not a close friend at that.

Now she knew she had been lying to herself. Looking into his face, she knew she had to say something to take away the anger he was directing towards himself. "Don't be sorry for the kiss, Hotch, because I'm not." She waited for his reply, barely daring to breathe. She wondered what she would do if he said he was sorry. She wondered if she could bear the pain that answer would cause. Why had she done this to herself? She was an idiot. No, not just an idiot. A masochistic idiot.

He hadn't replied, he was just standing there staring at her silently. She closed her eyes briefly, then spoke again, so quickly that her words tumbled over each other. "No, don't say anything. I shouldn't have said that, and I definitely shouldn't have kissed you. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." She turned and started to pull away from him, wanting to escape. The bathroom was too small and he was too close. So close that she could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

He caught hold of her arm, his grasp gentle and yet firm enough that she couldn't move away. "Emily."

She stopped, but didn't turn to look at him, terrified at what she would see in his eyes. Regret perhaps? Or even worse, pity?

"Look at me." His fingers touched her jaw, and he slowly turned her face towards his, stepping forward so that he was again standing in front of her.

She slowly lifted her eyes to his, swallowing hard. What she saw there made her breath still in her throat.

"I'm not sorry for the kiss, Emily." His expression was Hotch at his most serious, but his eyes were soft, almost tender in its regard for her. She had only ever seen it when he looked at Jack. "I probably should be, there're many … prevailing factors we'll need to discuss but the bottom line is I'm not sorry."

Emily could only stare at him wordlessly. She wasn't quite sure if she had heard him correctly. And did he actually say prevailing factors?

"As for making me uncomfortable ..." A corner of his mouth lifted and she stared, dazed at the warmth in his gaze. "Well, that you did, but not in the way you thought." He smiled wryly at her and her eyes involuntarily dropped down to just south of his belt before immediately snapping back up to his face.

_Holy crap. _ She felt her face heat. "Uh …" She was literally at a loss for words. What one says upon realising that your superior is clearly experiencing a physical reaction to you, albeit a flattering one which one reciprocated, was not a situation that her deportment tutor had covered. How dare you, sir, would probably be the right response, she thought, flashing back to the memory of the sour-faced spinster. Except Emily felt more like saying, thank _you_, sir.

"Sorry," Hotch murmured, interrupting her thoughts. "My attempt at lightening the mood obviously didn't have the effect I intended. How about I get you into bed?"

Emily blinked and Hotch grimaced painfully, making her smile. "Excuse me a moment while I try to remove the foot from my mouth. That didn't come out the way I meant. Obviously I'm no Morgan." That comment made her smile widen into a grin. "What I'm trying to say is that you look exhausted and you need to get some rest. Can I help you to the bed?"

"Sure." He picked up the oil lamp and came back, slipping his arm around her waist. She was actually glad of his support as she had to admit that she was starting to feel a little lightheaded. The queen-sized bed was behind a heavy curtain separating it from the living area. Hotch put the lamp down on the bedside table and leaving her standing, pulled off the sheet on top which was obviously acting as a dust cover. Emily watched as he flipped back the quilt cover. There was a sheet on the bed which looked reasonably clean, and there were pillowcases on the two pillows. He looked up at her. "The bed looks pretty clean, are you okay to sleep on it?"

She nodded, now feeling immeasurably tired. He helped her sit on the side of the bed but stopped her before she could lie down.

"What's wrong?" The bed felt comfortable under her, and all she wanted to do was lie down. She was so tired.

"Just wait." Emily watched as he started to open drawers in the cabinet next to the bed. He finally pulled out a flannel shirt, large enough that it probably belonged to a male. He walked back to the bed. "There's blood on your shirt."

She looked down, surprised to see that there was a large patch of it on the right side of her white shirt.

"Can you change on your own?"

"Yeah." She managed to unbutton her shirt and started to take it off but stopped, her breath catching when her shoulder protested painfully.

"Emily, are you all right?"

She looked up to see that he had turned his back to her to give her some privacy. She looked down at herself. Her beige bra was one of her practical ones and covered her more than a bikini top would have. Oh for heavens sake, Emily, just ask for help. "I need help, Hotch."

He turned around immediately, and without ceremony, helped her out of her shirt. His face was impassive as he put the flannel shirt on her and buttoned it up. Before she realised what he was doing, he had lifted her up into the bed. She sighed as her head sank down into the soft pillow. She just wanted to sleep forever. Her eyes, which were already drifting close opened again when he took off her boots. He removed her socks, then looked up at her.

"Emily, you might be more comfortable with your pants off."

She grinned. She was sleepy, not dead. No way she could let that statement pass by without comment. "One kiss and you think you can get into my pants. How very presumptuous of you, Agent Hotchner."

"Thank you, Agent Smarty Pants, now how about it?" Hotch looked patiently down at her, although she thought she could see a smile playing about his mouth, even in the dim light.

"Yes, please." Lifting the flannel shirt up to her waist, her smile slowly faded when she felt his warm fingers against the skin on her stomach. Holding her breath, her eyes widened when he lifted his head up, eyes locking with hers. They stared at each other for a long moment before Hotch looked away, clearing his throat awkwardly. He quickly pulled her pants off, averting his eyes from her legs and she pulled down her flannel shirt over her hips. After folding the pants and putting it on the top of the cabinet, he came back and drew the quilt over her, covering her snugly. He straightened up and turned to go but she called out to him.

"Hotch?"

He paused briefly before turning back, almost as if he knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, Emily?"

She bit her lip when she saw that his frown was back in place. She knew she shouldn't say it, she _knew_ she shouldn't. But she couldn't stop herself. She had finally admitted that during all that time she had been away, all that time that she had been in exile, all she had wanted was him. For his arms to hold her and his voice to tell her that she was safe, that everything was going to be all right. He had been the reason why she had never felt comfortable with the idea of taking a stranger home with her. She had needed him so much, she still did, and now here he was, right here in the room with her. She _had_ to say what was in her heart. There really wasn't any choice.

"Can you hold me, please?" Her voice was a whisper. Yet it seemed to her as if she had shouted, the plea in her request unmistakable.

Hotch stood motionless, and for a moment she thought he hadn't heard her. And then he was taking off his jacket and his tie. Her eyes followed him as he walked around to the other side of the bed. Flipping back the covers, he got into the bed and shifted across until he was next to her.

Emily turned onto her side, feeling the mattress move as he adjusted himself, slipping his arm under his pillow. His arm came over her waist almost tentatively and she put her arm over his, guiding it down around her so that his hand rested on her stomach. Putting her hand over his, she scooted back slightly so that her back touched his chest. Before long the warmth of his body enfolded her like the most comforting of security blankets, and for the first time in a long, long time, she felt like she could finally let her guard down. There was something else. It took a while, so alien was the feeling, but she finally realised what it was. She felt safe.

"Go to sleep, Emily, I'm here. I'm right here." His strong, steady voice somehow unravelling the tight coil of anxiety that had been present since she found out that Doyle was free. It had persisted even after his death. She breathed out a shuddering breath as the tightness in her chest gradually eased. Her hand tightened on his. She suddenly wished with everything within her that she could stay with him like this forever.

"It's all right, Emily. Everything's going to be fine."

As she drifted off of to sleep, secure in the knowledge that for once, she was not alone, she thought she felt Hotch press a kiss into her hair.

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><p><strong>So my muse was in a super romantic mood :) Let me know what you thought.<strong>

**Thank you so much to those who nominated my fics for the CM Profiler's Choise Awards - Sin to Win Weekend, Some Like It Hot - and me, for Best Author. I am incredibly touched! If you do intend to vote though, please do so soon as voting closes November 30. The link to the ballot is forum . fanfiction . net / topic / 74868 / 51253709 / 1 / without the spaces. They're also loads of other wonderful fics and authors, so do check them out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies everyone for the delay in posting. My muse has been severely uncooperative. I'd give it a good talking to if I could but that doesn't seem to make any difference. Hmm.. that sounds suspiciously like my 4-yr-old. Luckily, thanks to my gorgeous friend Brandywyne Walker, I've managed to push past my block, so hopefully the rest of the story will not be as hard. Thank you Brandy. And if you haven't read any of her stories, please do, she is an amazing writer!**

**And as always, thank you saturdayslump, you really are a wonderful beta. We'll do that Botch crackfic soon, I promise!**

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><p>Hotch felt awareness prick at his subconscious and he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he felt was an unfamiliar weight on his arm. Turning his head to the left he beheld a sight he never expected to see. Emily lay on his arm, curled around him. Her face was completely at peace in repose and his eyes roamed over each of her features: her black lashes lying on her ivory cheeks; her pointed nose; her pale rose coloured lips, naked of lipstick.<p>

The sight of her lips brought back the memory of their kiss. Even now he could remember in explicit detail the softness and suppleness of her lips, the velvety inner recesses of her mouth, the sensual rasp of her tongue against his. She had tasted of mint and of a taste that was uniquely hers. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so deeply affected by a single kiss; he wasn't sure that he ever had been. The moment their lips had met, every rational thought in his mind fled. The speed at which the kiss had deepened into a sensual storm ravaging his senses had stunned him. It still did. The mere memory of the heat that was contained in that kiss made his body respond.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, careful not to jostle her. She needed the sleep. He had woken her every hour or so last night to make sure that she didn't have any signs of concussion. He had been relieved when she had answered all his questions lucidly. As a result of this though, they were both exhausted. He had only woken up after being roused by the unfamiliar sound of birds chirping outside the window to the cabin. The cheerful cheeps and merry tunes only served as a reminder of their current predicament.

He knew the team would be worried about them and would be doing everything they could to track them down. His current concern, however, was for Jack. After Haley's death, he had been extraordinarily careful in making sure that his son knew where he was at all times. It was probably more for his benefit than Jack's. He still experienced guilt at being the slightly more than occasional absentee father. Being able to tell Jack where he was and that he was reachable at all times made him feel better. Unfortunately, it meant that Jack was probably wondering why he hadn't called last night. And unless a miracle occurred in the next twelve hours, he wouldn't be calling his son tonight either. It was a good thing Jack was with Jessica; she would be able to give him the reassurance he needed.

Emily stirred against him and she shifted even closer to him, slipping her arm over his waist. He held his breath when she mumbled his name, wondering what her reaction would be when she woke up to find how close their bodies were to each other. Right now there was not a breath of air between them. Her eyelids fluttered but didn't open. A few seconds later, her breathing evened out and slowed.

He knew he should get off the bed. Because of the kiss, because they had shared a bed together, no matter how platonic it had been, he knew that the right thing to do was to extricate himself from the current situation. He was still her supervisor. There were work imposed rules. There was his own personal rule against having relationships with a fellow agent. There was also the fact that he was already in a relationship with another woman. Hotch's errant thoughts skittered to a halt.

_Shit._

He threw his arm over his eyes, groaning inwardly. How the hell had he managed to forget Beth's existence? He had been seeing her for almost 3 months now, for God's sake. She wasn't exactly forgettable. He enjoyed the time he spent with her. She was intelligent, warm, and funny - not to mention being an extremely attractive woman. He should be thanking his lucky stars that she noticed him. He was aware that he wasn't the smoothest talker in the world, nor the most attractive man. To be truthful, he wasn't sure what she saw in him. She made him laugh and the kisses they had shared had been more than satisfying. And yet something was holding him back. He had barely shared anything related to work with her, just like he had always done with Haley. Worse still, he hadn't introduced Beth to Jack yet.

Hotch had thought it was because he was afraid of commitment. After what happened to Haley, he would never again take his loved ones' safety for granted. And then there was Jack. He told himself that he had to be certain about Beth before he introduced her to the most precious person left in his life, the only one worth living for. He thought he was just being his normal, cautious, consider-the-full-range-of-outcomes self that he always was.

But now he wasn't sure. And it was all because of the woman currently lying against him, the woman currently snuggling against him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And it _felt_ like the most natural thing in the world. He could so easily become used to waking up to her every morning. In that moment, he wanted more than anything to wake beside her each morning, see her eyes open, watch her smile as she sees him, give her a good morning kiss. He didn't know where these thoughts and feelings were coming from; they seemed to be rushing at him from completely out of the blue. All he knew was that he was harboured strong feelings for Emily Prentiss, and they were not the feelings a superior should have for his subordinate. Nor were they feelings he could easily dismiss.

For the first time in a longer than he could remember, Hotch had no idea what the hell he was going to do.

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><p>Emily opened her eyes, finding herself alone in a large bed. Her eyes took in the roughly hewn logs which made up the walls in the room. Where was she? She turned onto her back, wincing when her head throbbed at the movement. The pain made her recall the events of yesterday. And then she remembered: the crash, the cabin, and ... <em>oh, <em>_dear __God, __Hotch_. She closed her eyes, remembering the kiss they had shared. She had never, ever felt anything like that with any other man. Never even come close to the unexpected sizzle she had felt when her lips had met Hotch's. It would not have occurred to her in a million years that kissing her impassive, stone-faced Unit Chief would engender a blistering heat so intense that it had threatened to burn them alive. And then there was the fact that she had spent the night sleeping in his arms. It had been the best night of sleep she had had since she had found out Doyle had escaped.

But all this made not one whit of difference to the fact that they worked together. It was a situation that would remain unchanged for the foreseeable future unless one of them did something to change the status quo, which was extremely unlikely. She sighed, wondering how long she could reasonably stay in bed for in order to avoid the inevitable conversation. _Come __on, __Prentiss, __when __did __you __start __being __a __pussy? __Get __up __and __face __the __music._ Groaning to herself, she slowly got out of bed, moving gingerly so that the faint throbbing in her head didn't worsen. She slipped her pants back on, unable to help smiling at the military precision of the fold. After a quick visit to the bathroom where she brushed her teeth and made herself look as presentable as she could without make-up, she walked into the kitchen to find Hotch staring out the window, a stoneware mug in his hand.

He was apparently deep in thought because he failed to notice her entrance, and she took advantage of the opportunity to gaze at him. He was again dressed in his shirt and slacks, but the slightly creased shirt was open at the throat and she found herself admiring the profile of his face and neck. Without his toiletries, he was unable to slick down his freshly cut hair and short tuffs of it stuck up slightly near the top of his head, making her fingers itch to comb through them. Some of his hair fell on his forehead, giving him a boyish look and making her smile. A dark shadow of stubble covered his cheeks and jaw line, and she couldn't help wondering how that would have felt against her skin during a kiss.

At that thought, Emily gave herself a swift mental kick. She must be going soft in her brain. Either that or her head injury was more serious than she thought - Hotch's repeated concussion checks notwithstanding. She had to stop thinking of kissing Hotch. At least until they figured out what they were going to do next. Unfortunately, after he had told her last night that he didn't regret their kiss, she was now harbouring the tiniest, most minuscule amount of hope. She vacillated between the vision of Hotch telling her that it had all been a mistake and him dropping down on one knee and professing his undying love. She frowned. Yep, definite concussion alert!

Hotch finally turned around and saw her. "Morning."

"Morning." She wanted to smile, but nerves had taken over. What was he going to say to her?

His expression as inscrutable as ever, Hotch walked over to the kettle warming on the gas stove. A mug stood nearby on the kitchen counter. "Coffee? Sorry, there's only instant."

"Yes, please." Coffee was coffee. She needed some caffeine to clear her head. She waited for him to pour her a mug then took it from him.

Hotch's eyes were trained on her, his gaze unblinking. "We have to talk."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, I know." She licked her lip, her eyes locking with his. "Do you mind if I start?"

He inclined his head. "By all means."

She took a sip of her coffee before launching into the speech she had mentally prepared while in the bathroom. "Hotch, about last night. The only thing that happened was a kiss. So if you want to pretend that it never happened, or that it was just a random occurrence that will never happen again, I am okay with that." She was no way _near_ okay with that. In fact, the thought that he might want to forget their kiss ever happened shot pain through her heart. But in the interest of self-preservation she had decided to jump first, like someone saying they would resign before being fired. Although she would rather be fired a thousand times over than be rejected by Hotch. Especially now that she has realised how strong her feelings were for him.

He frowned and she felt her heart sink. "Emily, I told you last night that I didn't regret the kiss. I didn't say that in the heat of the moment." He looked steadily at her, "But before we go any further, there are things that we still need to work out." He paused. "Things I need to work out."

Her feeling of relief at hearing that he didn't regret their kiss quickly dissipated. "Are you talking about work?"

His expression was serious. "There are the anti-fraternisation rules, and there will be some effect on the team. But I was thinking more about Beth."

"Oh." She had completely forgotten about his girlfriend. What was wrong with her? She never, ever, encroached upon another woman's turf. Never. "Hotch, I'm so sorry. I never even thought – "

"Please don't apologise. I'm the one at fault here, not you."

"But you won't have been at fault if I hadn't kissed you."

Hotch shook his head. "I kissed you back when I should have known better."

"Why did you, Hotch?" Everything within her went completely still in anticipation of his answer.

He looked at her, brow knitted, for a long moment. "I thought I was going to lose you," he finally replied. "And I was scared."

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to take that. Despite this, her heart had leapt at the vulnerability in his admission. "You kissed me back because you were … relieved?"

He exhaled slowly, eyes dark with some unfathomable emotion. Her heart stopped upon hearing his next words.

"No, I kissed you back because I realised that if I had lost you, I'd be losing someone I care about deeply. Someone I think I'm fast falling for."

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><p><strong>Sorry! Please don't hate me : ) I had to stop it here, but I will work on getting the next chapter up as soon as my muse will let me. Please do leave a review still, though!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone, I'm so sorry for the massive delay in completing this fic. I was suffering a severe mental block with this chapter. Honestly, this has been the hardest fic I've written, the thought of writing each chapter was almost painful! Anyhow, it's finally done. I do hope I don't disappoint you too much, it hasn't been the most flowing of my stories!**

**Thanks to my beta, saturdayslump, whose been my cheering squad all the way. Without her, you'd be left hanging with Hotch's declaration to Emily, trust me (plus a not so well-worded description of a kiss)! You are the best, L, and I totally mean it!  
><strong>

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><p>Hotch looked at the stunned expression on Emily's face and felt his chest tighten in sudden panic. Had he just told his colleague and subordinate he was falling for her? Not just falling for her, but falling <em>fast <em>for her. Shit. He hoped the part of his brain that controlled his facial muscles hadn't failed him and that he didn't look as freaked out as he felt. What the hell had possessed him to say that? What right did he have to say that? He was involved with another woman. Backpedal, Hotch, back pedal now.

"Emily, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I have no right to."

Her face clouded over. "You didn't mean what you said?"

His heart clenched at the pain that flashed in her eyes. Damn it. Stupid, clumsy fool! He knew the right thing to do was agree, but he couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't ever hurt her. "I meant every word I said. I have feelings for you that I…shouldn't have. Not when I'm your boss. Not while I'm in a relationship with another woman. I need to talk to Beth before we decide what we do next. You understand, don't you?" He watched as she bit her lip, her normally smooth brow furrowed.

"When you say 'talk', what do you mean?"

Hotch knew what Emily was asking. "I'm going to break up with her."

Her mouth opened, and she stared at him for a long moment before closing it again without saying anything. "You're going to break up with Beth over this thing between us that we haven't even defined?" There was a trace of apprehension in her eyes.

He started to feel uncertain. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. "Should I only break up with Beth when this thing between us has been defined? Do you even want me to break up with Beth, Emily?" He observed her closely, knowing that her answer was going to be one of the most important ones he will ever hear.

She blinked. "I do, of _course_ I do." She bit her lip, watching warily as he approached her.

He traced her cheek tenderly with his thumb, unable to stop himself from touching her. "Of course?" He couldn't deny the joy that filled him at her reply. He had to know more. "Why of course?"

She swallowed visibly. "I want ..." she stopped, obviously nervous. He didn't know if he had ever seen her like this. The fact that such a strong, confident woman was reduced to this mass of nerves proved just how important this was to her. How important he was to her. It was humbling. Removing her coffee mug, he took her cold hand in his warm one, trying to reassure her.

"What do you want, Emily?"

"I want to be with you. So much." Her last two words were almost soundless. The tentativeness in her voice mixed with the stark longing in her eyes was his undoing.

He murmured her name and stepped close, cupping the back of her head with his free hand. Ruthlessly cutting off the rational thought that he shouldn't do this, Hotch captured her mouth with his. And just like the previous night, everything beyond their kiss vanished. She tasted deliciously of coffee and the slightest hint of mint; desperate for more, he deliberately deepened the kiss. When he lightly sucked on her tongue, she moaned, the sound vibrating into his mouth. His hands moved down her back and she slid her arms around his neck, arching closer to him. At the feel of her soft breasts pressing against his chest, Hotch growled, cupping her bottom and pulling her up tight against him. Emily gasped before recovering and then proceeded to nip sharply at his bottom lip. The sudden sting fired his blood further and bent down and picked her up, her legs naturally twining around his waist. He walked over to the dining table, never once breaking contact with her mouth. After setting her down, he finally detached his mouth, but for the sole purpose of planting hot, moist kisses down the side of her neck.

Emily whimpered, dropping her head to the side to allow him more access. He had unbuttoned three buttons of her blouse when he came to his senses. Damn it! He straightened up immediately, trying to get himself under control. He watched as she opened dazed eyes to look at him.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," he gasped, trying to calm his breathing and rein in his raging hormones. His body was screaming at him to just _take her now_! He cursed himself at the look of confusion on her face. How the hell could he do this to her? Not to mention Beth. He was such a bastard. "I shouldn't have kissed you, I'm sorry. That was completely my fault."

She stared at him, then licked her kiss swollen lips. He felt his groin throb at the sight and silently cursed his unruly body. The degree of control he currently had over himself was frighteningly minuscule. He felt like he was a teenager again, a walking sack of uncontrolled hormones. He stepped back before he gave in to the almost overwhelming impulse to kiss her again. The problem was that he didn't want to stop at just a kiss. He want to take her to the bedroom, lay her on the bed, worship her entire body with his. And afterwards, he wanted to hold her all night. Every night. Forever.

But he couldn't. He had no right. He had already done what he shouldn't, had crossed his own moral boundaries. Those boundaries, which had previously been so sharply defined, were suddenly vague and blurry. Even so, he should have known better. He was a man who prided himself on his rationality and his sense of integrity, but had acted completely out of character. And it was this wild and unexpected behaviour that made him realise that there was much more to his feelings for Emily than simple physical attraction.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. He buttoned up the three buttons he had undone, feeling her eyes on him the whole time. When he finished, he stepped back, distancing himself from unbelievable temptation. He had never been so intensely aware of her presence till now. His fingers itched to undo those buttons again and stroke all along her body.

Her midnight dark eyes were calm when he met her gaze. "Don't apologise. It wasn't exactly one-sided." Her mouth slowly curved into a smile making his heart jerk hard in his chest. Damn, Hotchner, you're in deep shit. "I'm pretty sure that my legs were around you at one stage... although the details are a little hazy right now."

He groaned even as he broke out in helpless laughter. "You're not helping, Emily."

She grinned at him, hopping of the table. "It's not my fault that you're so distracting, Agent Hotchner."

Hotch shook his head, still smiling. "I'm sorry."

She walked over to her coffee mug and picked it up before taking a sip. "Don't be, I'm not."

"Let's change the subject before I apologise for the fourth time in as many minutes. I haven't done that since I accidentally spilled red wine down the front of Senator Barker's wife's white evening gown on my first security detail."

Emily's mouth dropped open and he stifled a smile. "No way! You didn't!"

"I did. In my defence it wasn't exactly my fault. Someone bumped into me while I was holding her drink for her and I didn't catch myself in time."

She giggled, her eyes dancing. "I'm just imagining this young agent frantically trying to dab at the senator's wife magnificent bosom." She had obviously met the woman in question.

"I did nothing of that sort," he protested. "I wasn't quite that naïve. I was already going to be reprimanded for my clumsiness, I didn't see the need for a sexual harassment suit as well."

Her face sobered. "Hotch." Her voice was uncharacteristically hesitant. "How are we going to do this. I mean, you and me, with work and the team."

"I'm not saying that it's going to be easy, but we'll figure it out." He paused. "That is, if you even want to. There's no pressure, Emily. I'd really like to give us a chance and see what happens, but if you're in any way unsure, we can forget it." That was a lie. There was no way in hell he could forget everything that had happened between them. But he would if she asked him to. Her happiness came before his.

"I can't say I'm completely sure about how it's going to work. But I know I want to be with you. So yes, I want to give us a chance." She exhaled, looking nervous, but managing to give him a small smile.

Elation flowed through him and he was unable to supress his grin. "I'm glad." He managed to say this quietly when all he wanted to do was give a jubilant shout, which was completely out of character for him.

"So, I was thinking we should go get our bags from the car. I feel a bit weird wearing someone else's clothes," she waved at her shirt.

"I had the same thought. I'll go once I finish my coffee."

"I'll come with you," she immediately said.

Hotch shook his head. "You might not have a concussion but that head injury was still pretty serious. Stay here. It's a fair way to the SUV."

"I feel fine, Hotch. Really."

"Emily, it's not a good idea." He saw her opening her mouth to disagree. "Please."

At his quiet plea she paused, then nodded resignedly. "All right. But I do want you to note my objection." She gave him a frustrated look.

He didn't bother to hide his amusement. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this light-hearted, despite their current predicament. "Objection duly noted."

A few minutes later he was at the door. "Will you be all right?" He suddenly felt a pang of concern at the sight of the still angry wound on her forehead. Maybe he shouldn't leave her.

"I'll be fine," she replied, reassuringly. He mustn't have looked convinced because she continued to speak. "Hotch, I've been in the Bureau for almost ten years and I was in the CIA for six years before that. I think I can handle taking care of myself."

"Okay." He was turning around reluctantly to leave when she called his name. He turned back to face her. "What is it?"

"Nothing. Just this." She reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for just that infinitesimal moment. She stepped back and smiled at his bemused expression. "Be careful."

He nodded. "I'll be back soon."

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><p>Three and a half hours later, Emily wrenched open the door and stepped outside, straining to see a movement in the distance. Where was he? It should only have taken him two hours at the most to get back. The sky above was ominously dark even though it was only two in the afternoon and the wind had picked up speed, rustling the trees in the distance and making the dry dust on the ground swirl beneath her feet. The temperature had dropped enough that she felt cold. Luckily, there was a generous supply of firewood in the cabin and she had remembered enough about the mechanics of starting a fire to light one. It was currently burning merrily away in the stone fireplace, but she was too worried to enjoy it.<p>

She walked a couple of hundred yards down the driveway, but still didn't see any sight of him. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry at the thought that something had happened to him. Had he been attacked by a wild animal? Maybe he was lying injured somewhere, unable to call for help. Her heart thudding in fear, her feet picked up pace and she was soon jogging down the driveway, ignoring the pounding in her head. Just as she was feeling the first fingers of panic creeping through her, she saw Hotch in the distance. He was walking slowly enough that worry struck her heart. She hurried the last few hundred yards and reached him, breathing fast.

Hotch was pale, their go bags slung across his chest. He was breathing too fast and perspiration beaded his forehead.

"Hotch!" She tried to take a bag from him, but he resisted, so she slid an arm around his waist instead. "What happened?" She stifled a gasp when she saw the bruised and bloodied knuckles on his left hand which he rested on her shoulder.

"Nothing. I remembered that there was a satellite cell in the glove box but it was jammed shut. It took me a while to get it open." He gave her a faint smile as they made their way slowly back to the cabin. "I got it though, and it works. I called Garcia."

Her eyes widened. "You did? That's the best news I've heard all day!" Her smile faded when she saw him wince. "What's wrong? It's your ribs, isn't it?"

"I'm fine, they're just a bit sore."

She knew they were more than just sore from the paleness of his complexion, but she said nothing. "Let's get you back before it starts to rain."

Unfortunately, the heavily leaden clouds decided to let loose a downpour while they were still several hundred yards from the cabin. Emily and Hotch moved as fast as they could but they were still soaked to the skin when they finally burst through the door. Emily quickly helped Hotch remove the bags and then started to take his jacket off.

"Wha... what are you doing?" he asked, frowning, even as he stood there shivering.

"You're soaked through, we need to get you into dry clothes."

"Y..you're wet too," he managed to say through gritted teeth.

"I'll change in a minute." Ignoring the cold water dripping from her hair into her collar, she pulled him towards the fire before kneeling down and taking his shoes off, then unbuckling his soaking wet pants and dragging them down his legs. He stepped out of them and when she straightened she saw that his fingers were fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt. She pushed his hands away and furiously attacked the buttons herself, wanting to get him warm and dry as fast as possible.

"J..just s..so you know, I'm kind of a..afraid of you at the moment," said Hotch, teeth chattering as she pulled the shirt off his shoulders in a quick moment.

Emily felt a bubble of laughter escape and she looked up at him, his hair wet and dripping water onto his face. Even his eyelashes were wet. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. She stood up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. She knew she shouldn't, but it seemed she had as little control over herself as he did. While he stood there, looking as bemused as he did earlier when she kissed his cheek, she hurried over and grabbed a blanket off the couch then wrapped it around him.

She undressed with quick, efficient movements, knowing his dark gaze was fixed on her the whole time, stopping when she was down to her underwear. She walked up to him and opening the blanket, stepped into the circle of his arms, slipping her arms around him. She felt him cover her with the blanket so that they both stood in the warm, slightly scratchy cocoon. She was careful not to hold him too tightly, she had not missed the livid bruises around his ribs, but tried to be as close as possible. He was still shivering and the skin on his back was cold.

"H..how c..come you're warm and I'm n..not?" His voice rumbled just next to her hear and his warm breath ruffled her hair.

"Because you're a cold fish and I'm a hot tamale." She grinned when she felt his chest shake with laughter.

"Ah, ahh...ouch. Please don't make me laugh." His arms tightened around her and she snuggled closer.

"Sorry," she murmured.

They stood there for long minutes until he was only exhibiting the occasional shiver. Hotch's voice rumbled under her ear. "Is it weird that even cold and in pain, I still think this is one of the best moments of my life?"

Her breath caught and there was a feeling of melting warmth in her chest. She drew back slowly and looked up at him. "For me too."

Hotch smiled crookedly at her. "This might be a bit presumptuous of me, but seeing that we've literally slept together and we're pretty close to being naked at the moment, I was wondering if you'd perhaps like to have dinner with me sometime?"

She hesitated. "After you speak to Beth?"

"After I speak to Beth."

"Then, yes, Aaron, I would love to have dinner with you." She deliberately used his given name, watching with delight when his modest smile widened, deepening his dimples. God, she loved seeing him smile. Yep, she had it bad for her Unit Chief.

"Is it wrong that I find the way you say my name incredibly sexy?" he murmured.

"I should probably not say it at work then huh?" She grinned up at him.

"Probably not. I think it's also a cue for me to step away. This is just a little bit too much temptation."

"You're right. Do you need help with your clothes? Your ribs..."

"I'm fine."

"Okay. I'll just change in the bedroom. I found some canned ham and baked beans. I'll warm that up while you have a rest. Do you have painkillers?"

He nodded.

After dinner, they sat side by side on the couch in companionable silence. Emily's head rested on Hotch's shoulder and their intertwined fingers rested on his jean-clad thigh as they watched the dancing flames in the fireplace.

They were still in that position when the state troopers found them hours later after being alerted by Garcia.

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><p><em>Three days later<em>

"Prentiss? May I have a word?"

Emily looked up to see Hotch standing next to her desk. He had just gotten back from lunch.

"Sure." She stood up and followed him into his office, wondering if she was paranoid or if the rest of the team were staring after them. He closed the door behind her.

"Have a seat."

Her heart racing, she did, watching him as he took a seat on his chair. The last few days had been taken up by medical checks, report writing and narrating the story over and over again to virtually every agent of the BAU. Luckily, both Emily and Hotch were experts at disguising their true feelings so no one in the BAU suspected a thing, with the exception of Garcia, who had questioned Emily extensively about how it felt to be stranded with an extremely hunky, if also, extremely serious, boss man. Emily had managed to wave off her questions nonchalantly, but she had a feeling Garcia wasn't going to let up until she got some salacious details out of her.

"What is it, Hotch?" Was he about to tell her that he'd change his mind after all? Maybe being back in the real world had made him realise that there was no way that their relationship would ever work.

"I saw Beth a little while ago."

"Oh?" Emily held her breath.

"I told her that I'd been doing some thinking and that I didn't think we were going to work out." His eyes were focussed intently on her.

She swallowed. "How did she take it?"

He sighed. "As well as could be expected. She asked if I'd met someone."

"And what did you say?"

"I said that it wasn't so much that I met someone as I'd come to a realisation."

"Oh?" She watched as his normally hard countenance softened and his brown eyes warmed, making her fall even more in love with him. Because, as she had finally admitted to herself last night, she _was_ in love with him.

"I realised that I had nothing to offer her because my heart already belonged to someone else." Hotch's voice was husky.

Emily's breath caught in her throat as she stared at her Unit Chief in wonder and disbelief.

"So I was wondering if the woman who holds my heart would like to join me for dinner tonight?" Hotch's voice was deep and steady, but she saw just the slightest hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Her chest tightened at the thought that this supremely confident man was actually worried that she might no longer felt the same way she had a few days ago.

She took a deep breath then answered with the truth that lay in her heart. "She would very much like to have dinner with the man whom she's fallen in love with."

Hotch swallowed convulsively, looking stunned. Then his eyes lit up and a smile slowly blossomed on his face. "You love me?" His voice was unsteady.

"With all my heart," she whispered.

They sat there, gazing at each other, acutely conscious that they were in full view of anyone who cared to look into his office, and yet unable to hide their emotions from each other.

Hotch finally expelled a breath, smiling wryly. "This wasn't very well thought out, was it? I should have waited till everyone had left before telling you."

"I'm glad you didn't." She gave him a shy smile.

"I want to kiss you so badly," he admitted softly.

Her heart leapt. "Only a few hours more."

He nodded. "I'll pick you up at seven?"

"That sounds good."

They stared at each other for another minute before Hotch stood up. She stood as well and followed him to the door. His fingers brushed the side of her hand, so lightly that it could have been an accident. But Hotch was a deliberate man, both in speech and manner. It had not been an accident.

Emily looked up at him as he put his hand on the doorknob, her hand still tingling. "I can't wait to see you tonight."

"Neither can I," he replied in a low voice. "Emily?"

"Yes, Aaron?"

"Being stranded in the cabin with you was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Me, too." She gave him a tremulous smile. "See you at seven?"

He opened the door. "Seven o'clock."

As she stepped out, she schooled her features into a neutral expression, even though everything inside her wanted to shout out her newfound happiness. She turned back to look at her Unit Chief, who gave her the slightest hint of a smile, making her heart skip a beat. A thought occurred to her and she grinned, seeing him lift his eyebrows questioningly.

"Like riding a bike, you say?" she called out to him, laughing merrily when his eyes widened just a fraction. "I can't wait." She walked down the stairs, still smiling. She had finally rendered SSA Aaron Hotchner speechless. And she planned to do more of that tonight.

* * *

><p><strong>I would very much love to hear from you about your thoughts of this chapter. Happy or not, do let me know! And I'm sorry, but this is definitely the end. I can't put myself through any more! Do check out my new multi-fic "The Problem and the Solution", though. It's something that I'm working on at the moment and am finding writing it completely addictive!<strong>


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